


Confessions

by historiCthrenody (Cookieluv246)



Series: Saudade:: [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Implied Character Death, Implied Incest, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Underage, Incest, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship, Sad, Sadstuck, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookieluv246/pseuds/historiCthrenody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A letter I will never send;<br/>To a contact who is no longer there;</p><p>-----<br/>Johns POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Quick sad drabble, no real reason for this. I just needed this.

Dad.

I have a confession, that i'm not willing to share with anyone, and hardly am willing to share with you.

Or at least I would be, if you were still around to listen.

Don't get me wrong, I have no right to blame you. For not being there, I mean.

It was my fault, of course. You might say otherwise--you could argue, saying it was just your time to go.

But that would never fill the guilt in my mind. Not when I think of all the things I could have done to stop it.

Like not playing the damn game for starters.

 

Fuck this game. 

 

Oh, i'm not minding my manners. Apologies for my language. I'm sure if you had a grave, you would probably be cringing in it as we speak.

But you never even got that, did you?

 

I'm sorry, that wasn't what I meant to say. Once again, I manage to let my pity-fest get the better of me.

I'm the prime embodiment, of a leader. It is me.

Well I've still kept my sense of humor, so that's good.

Though my tastes are starting to turn closer to Rose. 

 

Bitter.

 

Ironically, I hear she is coming out more like a flower.

But for some reason I can't.

I can't be happy.

 

There were a lot of things, a lot of time, I got from these three years.

A lot of time to think, to dwell, and to reflect.

I thought of a lot of things, about how we were to prepare for the final showdown. What you would say, if you were still here. If you could see me growing, changing, closer to you each day.

 

I tasted it.

Your pipe I mean.

I didn't really like it, but, I think I grew to need it.

Would you be disappointed?

I'm not exactly at legal age yet.

I've drank too. You could say I've had plenty of time to experiment. On everything pretty much.

Well...except for sex.

 

I've done it plenty of times, when I'm asleep so i've heard.

I've thought of my friends, I've thought of the trolls...

I've thought of you.

Are you disappointed in me yet?

 

What if I told you, yours were the most vivid. Yours were the ones where I woke up sweating and panting and crying.  
It always starts out innocent enough, a nice firm hug, a kiss on my head, down to my shoulder. You embrace me, you whisper how everything will be ok, and how none of this is my fault. You forgive me, and you are oh so proud of me. We share a mutual understanding, that everything is ok. I kiss you, your lips taste faintly of tobacco, and it feels like home. When I dream of you, I dream of home. It doesn't take much to get me going, and you ease any guilt or tension. You just know every way to make me feel happy, and then I wake up.

 

And I'm lost dad.

 

I don't know where you are, and I've lost my home.

And on these days I'm the weakest, because I know I can't even afford this simple luxury.

I can't afford to be this sad.

Because I know tomorrow will be a war, and I'll have to put all this garbage aside for later.

But If I don't, or if I can't--no. I can't even think that way.

 _I_ have to be the optimistic one, right?

If I don't believe it, no one else will. So when I finish this--when _we_ finish this--once and for all, I want you to know.

 

I miss you Dad.

 

And I'm sorry, for the man I've become.

I hope you're happy, wherever you are.

I love you,

Daddy.

 

From:

Your one and only son, John.


End file.
